


The Night Bus

by glitzyena



Category: IZONE (Band)
Genre: Angst, Bus, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Late at Night, Strangers to Lovers, Surreal, idk what to tag but i love yulyen, implied depression, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:55:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27228448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitzyena/pseuds/glitzyena
Summary: The Night Bus picks up those when they need it most, and drops them off when they find themselves. Yena's been on board for so long that time seems to blur, and has no will left to figure out a way to get off. Until Yuri boards, and suddenly Yena finds herself wanting to help her off more than anything.
Relationships: Choi Yena & Jo Yuri, Choi Yena/Jo Yuri
Comments: 3
Kudos: 62





	The Night Bus

**Author's Note:**

> helloooooo i'm back with yulyen this time!! i've had this idea for the longest time oml, so i finally sat down, planned it, and wrote it out. there's something i really love about late night bus rides, something about them just feels like reality has been altered in some way, idk maybe its just me, but i thought i'd utilise that sensation and turn it into a fic. but hey, enough rambling from me, i hope you enjoy reading!
> 
> [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/glitzyena)   
>  [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/glitzyena)

Yena is taken by surprise when the bus comes to a slow.

She doesn't remember the last time it stopped for anyone, so when she feels it slow down, she assumes that it must be because of her sleep-hindered daze more so than anything else. But, the lulling purr of the engine lessens into something softer, and the persistent sound of the tires on the tarmac begins to quieten, and she sits up a little straighter in her seat from where she had been slouched against the window.

It's dark outside, although it always is, the only light entering the vehicle's interior being the amber streetlamps that line the roads, staining everything with dull, warm hues that fade before resurfacing once more. It's relatively quiet, save for some guy in the back who's rap is a little too loud for his headphones, Yena able to tap out the rhythm with her fingertips if she concentrates enough. It's peaceful and undisturbed, and has been for quite some time now, so when the bus pulls up at a stop, Yena isn't the only one who's curious.

She sees, from the handful of people that are on the bus too, that most of them have their necks craned, trying their best to peer out into the darkness to catch a glimpse of what's going on. Yena herself presses her cheek up against the cool glass, blinking drowsily into the darkness. There's a small bus stop, its timetable glowing with a harsh, white light, almost like a little oasis amidst the murk of the night. Yena just about catches sight of someone stepping onto the bus, sees a flash of short, dark hair, accompanied by the shuddering sound of the doors opening and closing. Soft murmurs come from the driver's booth, too far away to make out any proper words, but the distinction between the driver's low, gruff tone, and a softer, sweeter one is instantly recognisable.

Shifting in her seat, Yena comes to kneel, holding onto the back of the seat in front of her for leverage as she tries to peak out to catch sight of whoever had just climbed on. It's tricky, in the hazy, inky blackness, but she can just about see the blurred outline of a girl, standing with hesitance next to the driver. Yena can't see her face, but her posture says enough; slumped, tired looking and unsure, the image of what Yena's sure she looked like when she first got on board. Straining to hear, the girl's voice cracks when she speaks, and her words are indecipherable. The bus driver responds in kind, in his usual short, quipped manner of speaking, and the interaction continues back and forth for a few short, yet achingly long moments. The girl bobs her head at something the driver says, almost dazed looking, before her gaze drifts out to the teeming rows of seats that bus seems to possess.

Yena doesn't quite remember how the bus looks from the outside; it's been so long since then, and it wasn't exactly something she thought she'd need to pay much attention to, but she does recall it appearing quite small. The interior, of course, is an entirely different story, with what seems to be limitless seats that stretch so far back they fade into that same, inky blackness. While the girl's features are confused and lost, she also looks overwhelmed, swallowing thickly and nodding in an absent-minded fashion.

Yena pities her. Immensely.

All eyes are on the girl as she dips her head in the bus driver's direction as thanks, slowly moving away from his small booth and making her way towards the aisle. She does't have anything with her, except a small rucksack, which doesn't seem to be holding much. She's dressed plainly, a black hoodie that aids her in blending into the darkness, the item of clothing seeming to swallow her whole with how large it is. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Yena thinks that she looks rather comfy. She jolts involuntarily as the bus starts up again, and Yena herself veers to the side a little, holding onto the seat in front of her to help her regain her balance.

She knows she's staring. She knows she's probably causing the girl more discomfort than necessary, but so are others. Other people too, are peeking over the tops of the seats in front of them, leaning to the side to peer down the aisle at another newcomer. Some don't care, having opened their eyes from their endless sleeps to see what the commotion is about, before deeming this new girl unworthy of their attention. Yena herself would usually place herself in the latter category, after all, it's just another person. But now... well, she doesn't quite know what. She doesn't know why she's looking. The girl isn't doing anything particularly interesting after all - she's slowly shuffling down through the aisle, avoiding eye contact and pressing her lips together, probably trying to find a seat that'll garner her the least amount of interaction with other people.

Or at least, that's what Yena's guessing. It's what she herself had done when she'd first boarded, head swimming with so many emotions and thoughts that were impossible to distinguish from one another. She remembers hating all those peering, curious eyes on her, immediately sussing out which seat was the furthest away from anyone else and making herself at home there. 

She doesn't even remember how long she's been on this bus for. A couple weeks? But maybe those weeks have melded into months. Maybe those months equate to a year.

Time is tricky here, when the sun doesn't shine, and you're constantly in a state where you're submerged in thick, inky blackness.

As the girl draws closer, eyeing each of the seats and the people that surround it, Yena can see the way her knuckles have gone white with how hard she's gripping onto the strap of her bag. Everything else about her seems to be delicate, disorientated and adrift, but the way she's holding onto that bag so tight makes Yena think that there's a subconscious part of her that's very, very aware of what's going on, even if she's confused by it.

The girl ends up sitting herself down on the opposite side of the aisle to Yena, two rows in front of her. It makes her the closest person to Yena on the bus, the one previously being a boy sat three rows behind her, both out of sight and out of mind. But this girl is in front of her, and even though she situates herself on the seat closest to the window, Yena can still catch a glimpse of midnight dark hair when she sits up straight enough.

So, Yena slouches. She tugs her knees into her chest and puts her earbuds in, cranking up the volume that bit louder, loud enough that it can drown out her thoughts should they ever get too much. She fishes around inside the pocket of her hoodie, expertly taking out a fruit pastille from its foil packaging with one hand, an unconscious movement at this stage, really. She closes her eyes as she pops it into her mouth, the sweet, yet tart flavour instantly spreading on her tongue.

She doesn't expect to fall asleep. She never seems to be able to. Yet, when she does, she's always awake before she's even able to comprehend it. It's a strange sensation, waking up to the darkness, not even aware that you were asleep just moments ago. It's a difficult sensation to describe, so she doesn't really bother trying.

_Blackcurrant_. She thinks to herself, feeling the roughness of the sugar on the pastille's exterior begin to fade as it melts. It's one of her more liked flavours. It's always a gamble, with what flavour you're going to get. Usually you'd just tell by the colour, and maybe offer your least preferred ones to someone else. But it's too dark for Yena to see the colours, and it's not like she's got anyone to share with.

The girl is crying.

Yena can only hear her because the music in her ears was just that bit too loud for her liking, so she'd gone with the option of just turning it off altogether. She likes doing that, from time to time. Turning off the music, just to be met with the simple sounds of the tires on the tarmac, and the soft breathing of those that are asleep.

She isn't crying as in, sobbing. It's that kind of pathetic crying, where you try to keep your breathing even, only for it to eventually, inevitably backfire and you choke on an inhale. She's quiet for short periods of time, that are long enough that Yena thinks her miseries might have ceased for the time being. But, each time she thinks that she's finally stopped, a quiet, muffled whimper will punctuate the silence, and the cycle will continue on. It becomes difficult for Yena to ignore, and she can't quite bring herself to turn her music back up to drown it out. She sits in her seat for she doesn't know how long, knees drawn into her chest, half leaned up against the window, contemplating what she should do.

This has never happened before. Every time a new person has boarded, she's forgotten about it within a couple hours. They melt into the darkness, and become another face amongst all the others, until someone else inevitably joins them a short while later. Why is she so aware this time? Why can't she stop thinking about it? Why is she even asking herself these questions?

Another sniffle, followed by a blubbered out breath that hitches and stumbles like they've gone over a speed ramp.

_Stupid girl._ Yena thinks to herself, frowning as she reaches for another fruit pastille to quell her inner turmoil. _Stupid girl, taking up my time like this. If she weren't crying, I wouldn't be thinking about her so much._

Surely, she herself hadn't cried when she'd first arrived. She doesn't remember, but surely, she'd have just gotten on with it.

(She had cried. She'd curled up into a ball, wedged into that corner where the seat meets the window, and cried into her palms until her fingers pruned.)

Deciding that enough is enough, she shifts so that she's kneeling up in her seat again. She has a much clearer view of the girl from this angle. She's faced away from everyone else, forehead resting against the cool glass of the window, rattled breaths creating small patches of fog on the glass, that fade out just in time for a new one to form. Yena can just about see her reflection, slightly distorted, but the the faint image of her eyes squeezed shut and lips pressed together is enough to make her feel a little guilty.

She drums her fingers on the seat in front of her absent-mindedly, a little jittery, trying to gather some courage for a reason she's not quite sure of. She shouldn't need courage for something as simple as this, but, now that she thinks about it, it does make sense. She doesn't think she's spoken to anyone since boarding this bus, minus the bus driver on her very first night. She doesn't need to, she doesn't _want_ to. Well, until now.

So, she gives herself a hard, mental kick, and just says it before she can psyche herself out any further. "Hey,"

The word fades into the dimness, and Yena can tell by the total lack of reaction that it goes unheard to just about everybody. Drawing her lips together, she inhales before repeating the word, a little louder. "Hey. New girl,"

The girl gives a start, taking her forehead away from the window like it had burned her. She whips around to face Yena all too fast, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand in a desperate attempt to rid the tears from her cheeks. Her lids are puffy, and her skin is stained with tear tracks, the whites of her eyes holding a pink hue to them that glistens in the muted moonlight. She blinks rapidly, like she's trying to bring Yena into focus, and looks up at her expectantly.

Yena quickly realises that she hadn't thought this far. Sure, getting the girl's attention is great and all, but now her gentle, watery eyes are gazing at Yena, who was the one who'd initiated conversation in the first place. She freezes up for a moment, not quite sure what to say. Hadn't she wanted to call on her to quieten down? To stop crying, so that she'll drift from Yena's thoughts? As much as she'd like to, it's not like she can just say that to her, not really. Her features are too soft, and too kind looking for Yena to make such a selfish request.

After all, the girl is lost. In some way, shape or form. She wouldn't be here if she weren't.

So, should she comfort her? Yena's never really been the sort of mushy feelings kind of person. Things like that are always obvious, through actions and such, and she's never really felt the need to express them through words. Never been very good at it either. Plus, wouldn't the girl feel a little embarrassed if Yena were to ask her if she was okay? Again, she's obviously not, so why should Yena need to form it into speech?

The girl just keeps looking at her, and, undecided, Yena just opts with the option of acting as if nothing is wrong at all. "Would you like a pastille?"

The girl blinks, looking surprised. "Sorry?" she croaks out, and she frowns at the roughness of her own voice, clearing her throat and repeating the same word in a more regular manner.

"A fruit pastille," Yena clarifies, taking the packet that she always seems to have out of her pocket, and giving it a little wave. "Would you like one?"

The girl brushes a few strands of hair behind her ear in thought. "Um, yes please," she nods. "If that's okay,"

Yena nods as she stretches out her arm, the girl doing the same. She uses her fingers to push out a pastille into the girl's awaiting palm, which she takes with a murmur of thanks. Yena hopes the flavour is one that she likes. She also hopes it isn't strawberry, because, they're her own favourite.

The girl puts the gelatinous treat into her mouth, and the faintest of smiles stretches her lips. It's watered-down, and doesn't last for very long, but Yena takes it as a small victory. The girl looks like she's about to shrink back into her seat again, so Yena speaks again before she can stop herself. "What's your name?"

The girl halts her movements, peering at her almost suspiciously. Yena doesn't really blame her. She too, would be cautious if someone were to talk to her after coming onto a place like this. But, no one had talked to her. Here, no one really talks to anyone. Again, Yena doesn't quite know why she's doing this.

"Yuri," the girl finally answers in a soft breath, Yena just about able to catch the word over the gentle rumbling of the engine. "You?"

"Yena," Yena replies.

The girl bobs her head, and Yena sees her try for that same smile again. It isn't anymore successful than it was last time, but Yena appreciates the effort. "Well, thanks, Yena," And with that, she disappears behind the backs of the seats, huddled into that corner where the seat meets the window.

Yena comes down from her kneel, letting her legs stretch out and take up the two seats, back pressed flush against the glass behind her. She takes out another pastille, putting it into her mouth whilst simultaneously putting in her ear buds. Before she turns the music back on, she waits a short while, anticipating another one of those muffled sobs that will eventually pierce the silence.

It doesn't come.

_Orange this time_. Yena thinks, turning her music back up again. It's not one of her favourite flavours, but if Yuri had gotten one of the nicer ones, and she's enjoying it, Yena supposes it's not so bad. 

"Yena?"

Yena cracks open one of her eyes drowsily, peering through the gap in between the dark strands of her fringe that have fallen in front of her eyes, and the fabric of her hoodie that she'd pulled up over her face in order to try and retain some warmth. It takes a moment for everything to come into focus, along with rubbing at her eyes with her fist to try and get some sleep out of them. Eventually, however, through the murky black, Yuri comes into view. She's kneeled on top of her seat, holding onto the back of it in a similar fashion to how Yena had when she'd first seen her. Her eyes aren't swollen anymore, the pinkness from them has cleared, and her cheeks are dry. Her eyebrows knit together. "I'm sorry," her voice is mellow, quiet. "I didn't know if you were actually asleep or not, you kept moving-"

"No, it's okay," Yena sits up, tousling at her hair with her fingertips, and brushing it back from her forehead so that she can actually see properly. "I wasn't sleeping, you're alright. Is everything okay?"

Yuri hesitates. "The um..." she trails off. "This is so stupid, I'm sorry," she gives her an awkward, apologetic smile, and Yena shakes her head, encouraging her to keep going. "The light," Yuri points above her head, to the roof of the bus. "I can't get it to work. Do you know how...?"

Yena stares at her for a moment, eyes drifting up to the direction in which the other girl had pointed. _Light?_

In all her time here, Yena could've sworn there were no overhead lights. She's gazed up at the roof countless times, lost in thought or just aimlessly staring, but she's never seen any source of light before.

Yet now, peering up at the ceiling, low and behold, two small bulbs gawk right back at her, switched off.

Yena looks back to Yuri, who's still looking at her hopefully. "I uh..." she gives her head a gentle shake, sure she must be going mad. Then again, stranger things have happened on this bus. "I've never actually turned them on before," she admits, not really seeing any point in being dishonest. "But I can give it a try if you want,"

"Oh," Yuri does appear a little surprised, but she doesn't seem to dwell on it for very long. "Thank you,"

To be quite honest, Yena doesn't remember the last time she got up out of her seat. Sure, she's kneeled on it, lain on it, stood up on it (an experiment to see if anyone would take any notice of her, or give out to her. No one had, and she hasn't stood up since.) Her legs are a little more wobbly than she remembers them being, and she holds onto the seats to help balance herself as she makes her way over to Yuri's. The other girl moves back to give her room, moving back to sit on the inside seat, leaning against the glass and resting her chin in her palms. Yena keeps one foot on the ground of the aisle, and places her other knee on the outer seat for leverage as she reaches up. It seems to be just a simple switch, however when she flicks it, the light remains off. Tilting her head to the side, Yena fiddles around with the other controls to see if any of them might trigger anything, while at the same time trying to convince herself that the fact she's never noticed _any_ of these things before isn't something to worry about. None of them seem to work.

"I think it might be broken," she frowns to herself.

"Oh, don't worry about it, it's fine," Yuri rubs her shoulders. "I was just-"

"Let's try a different one to see if it works," Yena cuts her off in her eagerness, moving away from Yuri's seat to the one behind her.

Yuri's face is a bewildered, but Yena doesn't catch it. "O-oh. Alright then,"

Yena reaches up to the light on the row behind Yuri, flicking the switch, and the light comes on within an instance. She lets out a hum of triumph. "It works here!" she points for Yuri to see. "Just move here instead,"

Yuri hesitates, eyes flicking back and forth. "Are you, uh, okay with that?" she asks timidly.

Yena's brows knit together. "Okay with it?" she parrots, confused. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Yuri gestures to Yena's seat. "It's right next to yours,"

Yena turns to look behind her, and low and behold, her own seat is right there, on the opposite side of the aisle of the set of seats that she'd just suggested Yuri take. Her lips part unconsciously, wondering how she hadn't copped that before she'd suggested it.

"It's fine, I'm sure one of the other lights will-"

"No no, it's fine," Yena insists, too stubborn, too prideful to back down now and admit that she'd made a mistake. "It won't make much difference to me. It'll be nice to have some company, anyways,"

Yuri's eyes bore into hers, for a few moments too long, like she's trying to read her, to dissect her words to find the truth. When Yena doesn't waver, she seems to deem her honest, and smiles warmly. "Thank you,"

It makes Yena's heart warm, but she brushes it off. "You don't need to thank me," she scoffs, plopping herself back down in her chair, slumped. "It's not like I own it or anything,"

Yuri doesn't say anything in response, collecting her minimal things and putting them on the seat behind her. But, Yena can see from the way her cheeks are full that she's smiling.

Fighting back a grin of her own, Yena huddles into her corner, taking out a pastille and chewing on it to distract herself. She doesn't even register the flavour, whether she'd enjoyed it or not, as she watches Yuri make herself comfortable, then scolding herself for watching.

She turns her head to look in the opposite direction, to look out the window. There's nothing to see outside, except for the same stretch of roadside that seems to continue on forever, and the same amber streetlamps that stain everything orange. The scenery never changes, and even if it were to, you'd never be able to notice. Everything just fades into darkness. Even looking at it for too long makes Yena's vision go blurry.

Her thoughts are interrupted by a sudden, dull _thump_ , one that makes her flinch in her seat. Whipping her head back around to face Yuri, she sees the girl curled up small in her seat, teeth gritted together and fist balled as she cringes. "Sorry," she whispers to no one in particular, reaching down and picking up whatever had fallen. When she comes back into her sitting position, there's a book in her hand, a plain, dark cover with a reasonable amount of pages. Yuri stares at it curiously, lips drawn together into a pout as she examines it from back to front. "This just... fell out of my bag," she thumbs the pages. "It's not mine," she holds it up for Yena to see. "Did you put it in there?"

Yena shakes her head. "Nope. You've never seen it before?"

"No,"

"It's your comfort item then,"

"My... what?"

"Your comfort item," Yena repeats, reaching into her pocket and taking out her packet of fruit pastilles. "These are mine. You get them around the time your first board, to help pass the time,"

Yuri gingerly looks down at the book in her grasp, holding it a considerable distance from her body like it might start attacking her at any given moment. "I- do I have to pay for it? How did it even get in there?" she looks like she has a lot more questions on the tip of her tongue, and even though this is all familiar to Yena at this stage, she supposes that it is quite confusing to someone who's never experienced it before. "I don't know, really," she admits. "They just sort of appear. I've never gotten to the end of a packet before. There just always seems to be more, never full, but more. And you don't have to pay for it," she adds that last part on at the end. "At least, I'd hope not,"

Yuri looks at her with slight alarm, but upon seeing that Yena doesn't seem to know any more about it than that, she seems to take her word for it. "Oh. Em, thank you,"

Yena gives her a nod of acknowledgement, and moves to put her earbuds back in, but before she can, Yuri holds up a hand to stop her. She seems to second guess herself the moment she does so, shrinking in on herself and scrunching up her nose in physical discomfort. "I'm sorry," she seems to say that quite a lot. "I don't mean to keep bothering, you can-"

"No, really," Yena puts the buds on her lap. "I've literally got nothing better to do. What is it?"

Yuri hugs the book to her chest, resting her chin on top of it. "What time does this bus stop at?"

Ah.

Yena doesn't answer for a few moments, pressing her lips together and all of a sudden avoiding Yuri's gaze. She clears her throat a little too loudly to be considered natural, and she sees Yuri give her a funny look from her peripherals.

_As if the question hasn't been eating Yena from the inside out ever since she first got here._

"Soon. Hopefully,"

She doesn't give it anymore thought, putting in her earbuds and turning up the music so loud it hurts. She rests her chin into her palm, and looks out of the window, into that endless black. Like a reflex, she pulls a pastille from her pocket.

_Lime._ A little bitter.

Yuri seems to be doing a little better.

Occasionally, Yena will look over at her, and catch her looking a little sombre, or sentimental, but the majority of the time she seems to be hanging on. She's often consumed by the book that she'd received, lain open in her lap while she rests her chin on her fist, eyes darting over the words and drinking them in hungrily. Sometimes she'll smile softly at something she's read, or a heavy breath will pass through her lips at something she finds amusing. Sometimes she'll roll her eyes, or shake her head, or make unconscious gestures with her hands, little ones, like she's having an argument with what she's seeing on the page.

Although, it's not like Yena is looking at her enough in order to be able to notice these things. It's just that Yuri's sat on the same row of seats as her, and Yena's preferred way of sitting is with her back against the window, legs stretched out across the two seats she takes up. Yuri just so happens to be in her line of sight.

She's watching her now, totally coincidentally, as she turns the page slowly, like she's reading the final words on the previous page and doesn't want to waste too much time with page-flipping before she continues on with the story. She seems to be at quite an intense part, because her eyebrows are furrowed in a concentrated manner. It's also in quite a sweet manner, but that's a thought that comes into Yena's head of its own accord, and it's not like she can do much to stop something like that.

Yuri heaves a heavy sigh, taking her chin away from her palm, taking the opportunity to roll out her neck, which must be stiff from having it in the same position for so long. Her eyes drift around, and eventually land on Yena.

Yena, who of course, was just coincidentally staring at her, realises that it must seem as though it was something she was consciously doing from Yuri’s perspective. And, even though that certainly isn't the case, Yena can't help how things appear on the surface. So, within a millisecond, she's averted her gaze, hoping it'll seem as though they had just so happened to lock gazes purely out of coincidence.

She goes to take a pastille out of her pocket, sure that such a usual, familiar action to her will aid her in appearing a bit more inconspicuous. Naturally, however, she fumbles with the packaging, and struggles to push a sweet out of the confines of the silver foil. She glares down at it accusingly, mentally blaming it for making her seem like a fool, and more than aware of Yuri's eyes on her at this stage. She tears through the foil probably a bit more harshly than necessary, and takes two out to put them past her lips in a rushed movement. The two flavours meld together, making it impossible for her to differentiate them, and she isn't exactly focused on that anyways. She's more focused on the fact that Yuri is still very much looking at her in the corner of her peripherals, and it's not aiding her in appearing any more natural. She resists the strong urge to squirm, that same sense of pride refusing to allow her to give up. She prays inside her head that Yuri will just deem it nothing, and go back to reading her book so that she'll forget all about it.

"Yena?”

_Damn it._

At the mention of her name, Yena turns to face her probably a bit quicker than necessary.

Yuri is the picture of unbothered, peering at her with a totally relaxed expression. She points to an area around the side of Yena's head. "What are you listening to?"

Yena reaches up to brush her fingers against her earbud, which has music in her ears so quiet she can barely hear it. The music that's played is never actually something she picks, but it always seems to fit her current mood. When she's frustrated or tense, it soothes her, calms her down. Right now, it's something light, airy, with the occasional croon of a woman's voice in her ears, sweet and silvery. She doesn't want to say that she doesn't know, because she supposes that sounds a little strange, so she hesitates for a few moments. Then, soundlessly, she takes the earbud out of her ear, and holds it out in Yuri's direction. It’s a universal symbol, she’s sure, and she doesn’t doubt that Yuri will understand what she means.

Expectedly, Yuri's eyes go a little wide at the action, eyes flicking from Yena, to the earbud she's holding, and back to Yena again. Her eyes are asking her a silent question.

_Are you sure?_

Yena nods.

_Of course._

With that confirmation, Yuri closes her book, yet keeps a finger in between the pages it was open on so as to not lose her place. She clambers out of her seat, Yena moving back into the seat closest to the window in order to make room for her. Yuri sits herself down on the seat next to her, and delicately accepts the earbud from between Yena's fingertips. It's quiet between them both, no real conversation needed, and Yena finds that it's a comfortable silence rather than an awkward one. She makes herself cozy, nestling in by the window and wrapping her arms around herself. Yuri puts the bud into her ear, and opens up her book again, continuing from where she'd left off.

Again, it's only because of the way Yena's facing that she's looking at Yuri.

She supposes she could change the way she's seated, but... well.

When compared to the endless stretch of dimness, Yuri is quite nice to look at.

It becomes a bit of a routine for the two of them, after that. Yena will invite Yuri to sit next to her, with that silent gesture of an outstretched arm, bud in between her fingers, and Yuri will always accept. She sits next to Yena, cozied up with her book, and takes a pastille off of her whenever Yuri offers. Much like the way Yena's pastilles never seem to run out, Yuri's book seems to be never ending. Whenever she turns a page, it's like another one materialises after it, the story stretching on and on and on without end. It doesn't stop Yuri from devouring it, however, constantly away in a world of her own whenever she opens it up.

They do talk, from time to time, about simple topics, but it's like they've both silently agreed that small talk isn't really for either of them. Yena much prefers talking to her as if she's a friend she's known all her life rather than someone she'd met just a couple days ago.

Or has it been weeks? Do those weeks equate to a month?

Time is tricky here.

When Yena asks her what her book is about, Yuri's entire face lights up. She goes on and on, the tone of her voice rising and lowering like she's on a rollercoaster, excitement clear as day in the way the words bubble past her lips. It's a romance novel, which Yena quickly learns Yuri has a weak spot for, which endears her for some reason.

At some stage, she stops paying attention to what Yuri's actually saying, and whatever it is that the book is about, and just ends up becoming enraptured by _her._ The way she talks, how enthusiastic, how _passionate_ she is... it's unfamiliar to Yena, but in the most wonderful way. So she lets Yuri talk, and assures her that she doesn't mind her ranting when she anxiously cuts herself off to ask Yena about it, and allows herself to wallow in these simple, newfound emotions that the other girl is emitting that make her feel... something.

It's something.

And something is better than nothing.

"Yena?"

"Mmh,"

"Why are you here?"

The question takes Yena by surprise. It's not like she hadn't expected it, she had, but just not so soon.

They're both a little dozy and lethargic, Yuri's book shut on her lap, her head at some stage having come to a rest on Yena's shoulder.

"The bus driver said, that the bus comes for you when... when you don't feel so good," she moves her head so that it's her chin propped up on Yena's shoulder instead, and Yena can feel the warmth of her breath on the underside of her jaw. "Why are you here?" she repeats in a murmur.

Yena presses her lips together, wanting to choose her words carefully. Yuri's venturing into unchartered waters, after all, into topics so taboo and unspoken about that Yena doesn't want to frighten her off. It's a feeling Yena hasn't felt for a long, long time, and it's just as distasteful and stomach-churning as she remembers. "I..." she trails off, tilting her head to the side, reconsidering her words again. "I had nowhere else to go," she finally manages to push the words out, knowing the answer is vague, but hoping that Yuri will take that as a hint. "I just- yeah," she trails off pathetically, hating how her voice shakes. "Nowhere else to go,"

Yuri doesn't say anything, for a moment.

Yena can feel her take in a slow inhale.

And then-

"That's okay,"

It's a strange comfort, one that Yena doesn't think she's ever heard before. Usually it's a _sorry_ , or a _I hope you can feel better soon._

_That's okay._

It's okay to feel like that. You haven't done anything wrong for feeling like that.

Yena thinks that she likes that comfort a lot. She finds herself having even more respect for Yuri than she did before.

"Do you.." she clears her throat, tongue suddenly very dry and very heavy inside her mouth. "Do you know why you...?"

She feels Yuri move her chin off of her shoulder, resting her head back on it instead. Trying not to jostle her, Yena looks down at the corner of her vision to try and catch a glimpse of her face. Her eyes are closed, but she's still awake. Her face is gentle looking, kind, relaxed and seemingly so void of worry that Yena would wonder why on Earth she's on this bus if she hadn't seen her crying before.

"I don't know," she mutters, voice so soft that Yena strains to hear it despite their close proximity. She feels a sudden warmth surrounding her hand, and, looking down, she sees that Yuri has taken one of her hands into both of her own. Her hands totally envelop Yena's, and Yuri gently guides them to her lap, where she readjusts her grip to be just the slightest bit firmer.

She opens her eyes, and Yena sees them glistening.

"I don't know,"

Yena's never really had the will, or the drive, to figure out how to get off this bus. It happens, from time to time, someone will disembark, and everyone will watch as they go. Naturally, there was a time where she desperately wanted the same thing. But, now, she's been here so long. It's her familiarity. She doesn't even know if that if she were offered the chance to leave, if she'd take it. She doesn't have anywhere else go.

But now, watching as Yuri's silent tears drip onto her lap, as her shoulders quiver when she tries to keep her breathing even, that she wants to find a way off more than anything. Not for herself, but for Yuri.

They become closer, then. Both literally and figuratively.

Yuri always seems to find a way to be able to touch her.

Ever since she'd held her hand that one time, it's like she's been starved of that one sense, and is hungry, desperate for more. Her fingers curl around the sleeve of Yena's jacket when she speaks, fiddling with a loose thread while she hums and bobs her head at all the right moments. She curls their fingers together, tracing the lines of Yena's palm while Yena tries not to shudder. She tucks Yena's hair behind her ear, lips drawn into a pout (a habit Yena's afraid she's picked up from herself), before bringing the same strands back over in front of her shoulder again, humming in affirmation before resting her head back on her shoulder.

Always touching her, always initiating some form of contact, whether it's consciously or unconsciously.

They still have their usual routine, Yena wordlessly offering her an earbud, not even having to look in her direction to know that Yuri will accept. She'll feel her take it off of her, along with that usual, comforting warmth that always seems to quell her raging thoughts. Not significantly, but again, it's _something._

Yuri will open her book from where she left off, completely absorbed in it, flicking on the light above Yena's head in order to ingest the words on the page. Sometimes, she'll silently hold out her palm, and Yena will squeeze out a fruit pastille from the packet for her. Yuri always accepts it with a gentle hum, and they'll continue on seamlessly.

Yena doesn't really feel the need to find excuses to look at Yuri anymore. It just sort of happens before she's ever aware of it, so she takes it as it comes.

"You're very pretty," the words just spill past her lips before she can do anything to stop them. Although, she doesn't think she would've done much.

Yuri is visibly taken aback, blinking with her head giving a soft jolt. She looks up from her book, wide eyes immediately honing in on Yena, and they just stare at each other for a moment. Yuri seems so shocked that she doesn't even no what to say, lips parted in a silent _O_.

She blinks rapidly again, eyebrows raising for a fraction of a second, and letting out a soft breath.

And then, she's laughing.

It's a clear, melodic sound, pleasant on the ears, but it sends a shock through Yena's system like bolt of lightning. The entire bus seems to hush, the low, indecipherable murmurs that are always present dying out. It's like her laughter, just her pure, unfiltered laughter, sends this wave throughout the vehicle, piercing the thick, inky darkness.

Yena doesn't think anyone's ever laughed on this bus before.

But here Yuri is now, laughing because she was just so taken aback by what Yena had said. Something that simple.

Yena smiles. Despite everything, she smiles.

Yena thinks that Yuri's come to a rather despondent part of her book.

She's been reading with the same, almost offended expression on her face for the past fifteen minutes or so, Yena having seen her turning the page backwards on a few occasions like she can't quite believe what she's reading. At some stage her hand moves up to her face to cover her mouth, and that tell-tale sign of her eyes beginning to glimmer makes Yena's heart melt.

Yuri stays like that, for a few moments, unmoving and silent, eyes having stayed on the same page for longer than usual by now. She doesn't make any move to continue on, and the tears in her ducts begin to catch the amber light. Her free hand is clinging to Yena's wrist, thumb drawing unconscious circles into the skin by her pulse point.

Reaching out, Yena gently takes the earbud out of her ear, trying her best not to startle her. "Hey," she keeps her tone soft.

Yuri doesn't react for a moment, but eventually turns to look at her, nothing quick or rushed, yet it doesn't take long before they're looking at each other. Yuri gives her head a gentle shake, like she's trying to get her head out of the world that the book is set in, and back to reality. "God, sorry," she breaks eye contact, looking away and letting go of Yena's wrist to hastily wipe at her eyes with her palms. "That's- shit, I didn't even realise-"

"Hey," Yena reaches out, and gently takes Yuri's hands away from her eyes. She holds them in between them both, and Yuri looks at her with uncertainty. "It's okay. You know it's only me, I don't mind,"

Yuri doesn't respond immediately, but her fingers wind around Yena's that bit tighter. Her eyes drift back down to the book on her lap, retracing the words with her gaze over, and over, and over. "She just... left?" her voice cracks on the first word, speaking the rest of the sentence in a whisper. "They were together for so long, and after everything, she just left?" she looks at the page as though it's genuinely hurt her, and by the tone in her voice, Yena would believe it if it had.

Once she starts, Yuri seems unable to stop. She rambles about what had happened, about the characters, and the point in the story where everything seemed to turn sour. She becomes more and more choked up the more she speaks, stuttering and stumbling over her words, inhaling in the middle of sentences and rushing to get the rest of the words out on the exhale. The tears become so much she can't stop them any more, running sticky races down her cheeks and soaking into the skin. The more she talks, the more worked up she's getting, holding onto Yena's hands tighter and tighter, and then some more.

Yena wants to quell her. She wants to calm her down, but she's never been very good with words.

She gazes at Yuri, mind a little hazy, as the girl's words meander even further. Seeing her in such a vulnerable, exposed state, makes her heart twist and contort into something horrid.

Yena's never been good with words.

She's kissing her.

It's a tear-ridden, emotion-raw kiss, and Yena doesn't even think about it. She isn't quite sure how it happens, how she initiates it, all she knows is that right now Yuri's lips are on hers, and she's clinging onto her hands like they're a lifeline.

Yuri tastes like fruit pastilles that have been coated in salt instead of sugar.

Even though she can't bring herself to stop, and she feels Yuri melting into her, something disgusting worms underneath Yena's skin, writhing into her conscious. Yuri's upset, anyone can see that, in such a susceptible, liable state, where her thoughts are a clouded mess and she's probably not thinking straight.

And... Yena's kissing her. Yena can't bring herself to _stop_ kissing her.

She takes Yuri's cheek into her palm, using her thumb to softly brush at the tears beneath her eyes. _This_. She thinks to herself, Yuri reaching up and gripping onto her wrist again. _This is why someone like me is in a place like this._

It's a bad idea.

Yena puts as much distance between herself and Yuri as she can, as much as she can when they're sat a mere metre away from one another. She doesn't hold out her ear bud for Yuri to take, and without an invitation, Yuri doesn't come over and sit next to her. She forces herself to look out of the window, no matter how maddening the endless darkness is, biting her tongue all the while.

This is why she has nowhere else to go.

Thoughts like these, that consume her. That swallow her whole and ravage her from the inside out. That no matter how loud she turns up her music, playing it until her ears bleed out, they won't be silenced.

Yena thinks that as much as she wants Yuri to be happy, as much as she wants to get her off this bus, her own selfishness will keep her here should the opportunity ever arise.

"Yena?"

Yena grits her teeth, digging her nails into her cheek. The volume of her music is low, and has been for quite some time now.

"I know you can hear me," Yuri doesn't give up, and in the distorted reflection of the window, Yena can just about see that the other girl is looking at her.

It's hard not to give in, simply because it's Yuri. So, she slowly turns around, sheepish as she takes her earbuds out.

Yuri regards her for a moment or two. She's frowning, more so in a concentrated manner rather than appearing annoyed. When she speaks, it's tender. "Why do you feel bad?"

Yena thinks about her answer, but her thoughts are just this useless jumble of words that mean nothing to her. She bites at her lower lip, avoiding Yuri's gaze. "You were upset. And I-"

"And you made me feel better," Yuri cuts across her, tone more confident than before. "I... enjoyed it. I don't really mind if you did or if you didn't-"

"I did," Yena cuts across her hastily, sitting up straighter, only to then shrink back in on herself. "That's why I... felt bad,"

"So we both enjoyed it," Yuri muses, tilting her head to the side. "Yet this still happened to us," she lets out a soft breath of laughter, the sound sending chills down Yena's spine. "I think we need to communicate a bit better, hm?"

Yena offers a hum as a reply, knowing that if she speaks a word, she won't be able to prevent the grin that's threatening to split her face.

_It's okay. She's okay. She says you're okay._

Yuri clambers off her seat, and sits herself down on the one next to Yena. Even just feeling her next to her, that extra added warmth, is enough to calm Yena down. She holds out her palm, and it's like nothing ever changed. "Can I have a fruit pastille?"

Yena reaches into her pocket, and tears the foil a little to reveal the next sweet, and-

She frowns, feeling around it to make sure her eyes aren't deceiving her.

It's the last one.

"Oh, don't worry about it then," Yuri waves a hand at her, opening up her book and nestling into the seat, slouched. "If it's your last one then I-" she cuts herself off, eyes darting, razor-sharp, back to the packet in Yena's hands.

Yena doesn't think she's ever had a "last one" before.

Yuri looks at her, the question obvious between them both, but Yena doesn't know the answer. "No... it's okay," she sounds uncertain. "You can have it,"

Yuri's eyes are still on her, ginger, looking like there's a thousand questions on the tip of her tongue. But, she seems to push them aside. "Oh," is all that comes out.

Yuri eats the final sweet, and Yena stuffs the empty wrapper into her pocket.

Yuri opens up her book, and starts reading from page one.

Yena is taken by surprise when the bus comes to a slow.

While she might remember the last time it stopped for someone, when she feels it slow down, she assumes that it must be because of her sleep-hindered daze more so than anything else. But, the lulling purr of the engine lessens into something softer, and the persistent sound of the tires on the tarmac begins to quieten, and she sits up a little straighter in her seat from where she had been slouched against the window. She presses her cheek up against the cool glass, blinking drowsily into the darkness. There's a small bus stop, its timetable glowing with a harsh, white light, almost like a little oasis amidst the murk of the night.

The bus stop is empty.

Yuri, next to her, tries to follow her line of sight. "Are we... stopping?"

Yena hums, wishing she could just close her eyes and will herself back to sleep. "It's somebody's turn to get off," whenever someone leaves, it always leaves her with a funny sensation in her stomach.

"Oh," Yuri says, then, "Who's?"

Yena shrugs. "I don't know,"

Sometimes it's quick. Sometimes, someone is at the driver's booth before the bus has ever even stopped. Sometimes, they wait, for hours, upon hours, when someone will finally shuffle up the aisle, and tentatively step off and exit. Sometimes no one leaves at all, but whenever that happens, someone will arrive at the bus stop, at come aboard.

They wait, for a short while, and while Yena thinks that she'd like nothing more for the bus to just keep driving, so that she can continue listening to music while Yuri reads, the latter looks to be growing restless. She's drumming her fingertips against her thigh, the book on her lap seeming to be the last thing on her mind. She's craning her neck around, peering at other rows, down and up the aisle, and Yena doesn't really have it in her to tell her that it's hopeless.

Then, Yuri's standing up. She's grabbing her rucksack from her own seat, and throwing it over her shoulder.

Yena sits bolt upright, eyelids going from heavy to peeled wide open. "Yuri?"

"I'm just going to ask the driver something!" Yuri calls over her shoulder, already making her way down the aisle, her pace brisk and a skip in her step.

Before Yena can even call out to her, to ask her why, she's melted into the shadows, gone up to the driver's booth where it's too dark for Yena to see her.

Yena stays still for a few moments, mind completely frozen, before she slowly slouches in her seat, bringing a knee up to her chest and hugging it close.

_She's gone to ask the driver something. It's okay, everything's fine._

The seconds trickle by. They slowly slip into minutes. Maybe those minutes equate to hours.

A slow feeling of dread begins to slither down Yena's spine.

The time seems to stretch on forever, but maybe only a moment has passed by.

When the engine starts up again, Yena thinks she's going to be sick.

The shadows, that inky blackness, seem to draw in on her, clouding her vision. It crawls all over her skin, winds its way around her throat, restricting her breath.

_She just left?_

No no no no, no. No, this isn't happening. No, it's not. It's not, it's not, it's _not._

_They were together for so long, and after everything, she just left?_

Yena grips at the roots of her hair by her scalp, tugging hard. She can't see, she can't hear anything except the rapid, irregular stutter of her own breath.

There's footsteps. Loud, excited footsteps. They draw closer and closer.

"Yena," Yuri's standing there, breathless, and she’s smiling so, so wide.

_She can leave._ Yena doesn’t even have to ask her to know that. _She can leave, she’s happy. Be happy for her._

And Yena _is_ happy for her, of course she is. She’s not inhumane. But because she’s not inhumane, she can’t help but yearn for her to stay. The past while, whatever length of time it’s been, whether it’s been a week, a month, or a year... Yena’s never experienced anything like it before. She’s not ready to let that go yet. She doesn’t know if she’ll ever be ready.

Yuri grins at her, eyes sparkling. Not with tears, but with genuine excitement. “I can leave,”

Even though Yena knew it already, having it there in the flesh makes it sting just that bit more.

“R-really?” The word comes out a little slurred, and there’s no use at this stage to try and stop herself from quivering. “That- that’s so g-”

“Come with me,”

Yena tenses.

Yuri stares at her, totally oblivious, looking like she’s on cloud nine. Her eyes are so hopeful, and she’s bouncing all the balls of her feet, jittery with excitement.

Yena averts her gaze, feeling like she’s let her down all over again. “I can’t,”

Yuri frowns. “But-”

“There are no buts, Yuri,” she bites out, harsher than intended. “I can’t leave,” she breathes out slowly. “I have nowhere to go,”

“Go wherever I go, then,” Yuri is relentless, and Yena has to hand it to her, she never gives up. “If not for yourself, for me. I can’t leave if it’s not with you,”

“Of course you- Yuri!” She cuts herself off as Yuri grabs a hold of her hand, tugging her out of her seat.

“You only think you can’t leave because it’s your own doubt that’s stopping you!” She exclaims, and she’s still smiling. “The only person stopping you from getting off this bus is you!”

“Really I-”

Yuri gives her another tug, and they’re suddenly all too close. Yuri takes ahold of her face, squishing her cheeks, not allowing her to look anywhere but right at her. It’s as bright and as lively as Yena’s ever seen her, and her sheer aura is driving the shadows that had wound around Yena’s skin.

Yuri gives her a grin. “If you say _I can’t_ one more time, I’m going to not kiss you,”

Yena blinks. Even if she’d wanted to, she wouldn’t be able to say anything, the breath punched right out of her lungs the moment Yuri took her face into her hands.

Yuri’s smile turns knowing. “You’re getting off this bus with me,”

This is so surreal. Yena’s head is spinning, thoughts a spinning blur, but Yuri in front of her is clear as day. “I’m getting off this bus with you,”

_I’m leaving. I get to leave._

Yuri kisses her, right there in the middle of the bus, and Yena well and truly couldn’t care. Because Yuri’s eyes tell her everything she needs to know.

_I knew you could do it._

Before they step off the bus, they thank the driver. Yena doesn’t quite know what to say, having only ever spoken to him once before. He doesn’t say much either, but there’s a knowing twinkle to his eye that Yena decides she’s not going to overthink.

They’re drowned in sunlight when they step off. It’s the first time she’s ever seen Yuri in the sunlight, Yena realises, and her skin glows warmly in a way that kind of takes her breath away.

They watch, together, as the bus trundles off, appearing much smaller on the outside then it ever did from the inside.

“Oh my god,” it’s only really hitting Yena now, as she takes a few steps back, using one hand to cover her mouth while the other clings onto Yuri’s. “Oh my god, I- what the fuck?” Her words are punctuated with disbelieving laughter. She looks at Yuri, and reaches out to grab her other hand, just to make sure she’s real. That this isn’t some fantasy inside her head, or a dream. But Yuri laughs along with her, and even in the sunlight, it’s still just as bright.

Yena can’t help herself. She lets out a whoop of delight, throwing her hands into the air, not caring how stupid or ridiculous she sounds. It makes Yuri laugh, so she counts it as a victory.

“No, no wait,” Yena brings her hands down to rest on Yuri’s shoulders, practically drunk on this feeling of ecstasy. “I like, love you,”

Yuri bursts into laughter again, throwing her arms around her and laughing into her shoulder. “You’re so ridiculous,”

Because it’s from Yuri, Yena takes it as a compliment.

“I like, love you too,” it’s said in a mocking tone, but hey, Yena will take it.

Maybe before, she had nowhere to go. Maybe she’d wander, aimlessly, until she’d found that bright, white bus stop when she’d given up. Maybe at the moment, she’s not quite ready to go somewhere that isn’t with Yuri. And maybe that applies for Yuri, vice versa.

But until the day comes where she can go somewhere on her own, Yena’s willing to give it all she’s got.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so so so much for reading!! if you enjoyed, a kudos/comment would be v much appreciated uwu. remember to stay safe! <33
> 
> [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/glitzyena)   
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